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@bachelorettenumberthree

“Fuck it, I’m not running.”

w. @bachelorettenumberthree ; boston, august, 2008.

belle always finds it odd how she never took interest on actually raising a pet -- most only children did, but then, when she stops to think about it, most only children didn’t have a father like maurice: raising himself and his daughter (because one definitely raised the other, belle has no doubt) was enough of a task. however, if she had kept a pet then, she wouldn’t have met so much struggle with the new resident in her flat.

the cat had been coming around for a year now, almost as much as the time belle lived in the building: she gave him food and rubbed his ears, gave him shelter during stormy days and they snuggled when it was cold -- one day the cat just didn’t leave, and she found herself not bothered at all. the poor thing obviously didn’t have an owner, and life on the streets was rough.

but, also, apparently, something the cat had gotten used to, thus, leading her here, on the hallway, looking for the damn spotted cat and pulling a audrey hepburn as she clicked her tongue and called out for cat (as, the same as holly, she had preferred not to name the animal while his stay wasn’t exactly permanent), instead of being in her shift at the campus’ cafeteria. her boss would deck out of her pay, and she would feel it horribly by the weekend, but the brunette is stubborn and just sure she had heard the animal around, so she continues, although the next time her tongue clicks it’s not to call the feline, but rather in annoyance.

maybe he had snuck into someone else’s apartment, she tries to reason with herself, knowing how many times the cat had decided climbing in through windows was better than to use the door -- habits could be hard to kill even with animals, it seems. so she turns to one of the doors and knocks on it, trying her best to ignore how she has never even talked to one of the neighbors even since moving in (and, as far as she knew, it was the same for her roommate) and the implications this may bring. “oh, hey! i’m sorry to bother, but have you, maybe, seen a cat? he’s white with black spots, has greenish eyes....a sucker for belly rubs...” some good first impression, belle. “i, um, live down the hall?” just great.

#— ❝ lᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ sᴛᴏʀʏ.#bachelorettenumberthree

💝

memories headcanon: closed

💝 a memory that made them feel loved

besides his parents, two other important people who had a lot to do with the way adam grew up were beatrice, the housekeeper, and henri, the butler. both used to work for his parents in london and were taken to paris when they moved, watching over adam whenever his parents couldn’t, for whatever reason. he was just a teenager when he lost his mother, and a lot changed after that—enough to make many who knew him for a long time hate him. not these two, however. they hated what he became, but didn’t hate him; it didn’t matter how badly he replied to them, how he avoided showing up at home—preferring to stay in the boarding school—they tried to keep into consideration that, deep down, he would get better and be the sweet boy he once was and notice that there are people who loved and cared about him. eventually, he did get to know that; they do their best to still keep adam in the light, giving him good feelings and memories to cherish whenever they meet—since they still work in paris, for his father—and still taking care of him, even being away.

#bachelorettenumberthree #q.#𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙. 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒. — ( adam. )#𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. — ( headcanons. )